


always crush me

by notthelasttime



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Bottom Gladio, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pre-Canon, for a more specific timeline: probably just sliightly past brotherhood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-06-26 11:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthelasttime/pseuds/notthelasttime
Summary: It was deceptively easy to fall into bed with Ignis.There were signs, if Gladio had let himself see them; the lack of awkwardness and no hesitancy as Ignis quietly brought him to his apartment in the Citadel, the box of condoms and bottle of lube both closer to empty than full, the way it only took one kiss. One ill timed kiss, one moment for Gladio to lose himself after months on months of banging his head against the brick wall that was Ignis Scientia. He was impenetrable. And the harder Gladio looked for a crack, a slip, some glimpse beyond the facade, the more Ignis seemed impossibly closed off. One kiss. One kiss and Gladio thought that meant change.





	1. Chapter 1

It was deceptively easy to fall into bed with Ignis.

There were signs, if Gladio had let himself see them; the lack of awkwardness and no hesitancy as Ignis quietly brought him to his apartment in the Citadel, the box of condoms and bottle of lube both closer to empty than full, the way it only took one kiss. One ill timed kiss, one moment for Gladio to lose himself after months on months of banging his head against the brick wall that was Ignis Scientia. He was impenetrable. And the harder Gladio looked for a crack, a slip, some glimpse beyond the facade, the more Ignis seemed impossibly closed off. One kiss. One kiss and Gladio thought that meant change.  

There was plenty more kissing now, behind a locked door and the promise of uninterrupted privacy. Kisses of the full and opened-mouthed variety, tasting like mint. Ignis must have taken the time to freshen his breath at some point, discreet enough that Gladio hadn't even noticed, and that should have been a sign too. Instead of seeing it as the undying and invariable Ignis who always had to consider others first in all things, Gladio felt it might be personal. As if this was specific to him, that Ignis was maybe trying to impress.

(He wasn't)

Gladio cupped his cheek and kissed him deeper.

He could feel the barely-there start of stubble under his palm, hair too fair to cast a visible shadow. His other arm, wrapped tight around Ignis's waist, tugged him closer. All they'd done was close the door behind them, still standing in the narrow entrance of the apartment, but Gladio hadn't wanted to waste any more time, hadn't wanted anything else but to claim that mouth again. Now that the dam had broken and he'd had a chance to taste, there was no longer any denying that this was what he wanted. This was what he'd been longing for. He just hadn't let himself think that Ignis might give in to him. 

A hand over his. Ignis pulled the hand from his face, broke the kiss. Gladio would think he was catching his breath, calming his heart too, but no, that was Gladio and Gladio alone. Ignis led him to his bedroom.

He seemed content to leave the lights off, and Gladio assumed it had something to with shyness, contradicting the bold way Ignis's hands had pushed off his shirt and started tugging down his pants. He didn't stop to think that maybe Ignis just didn't care enough to see the face of who he was with. 

(There were other things too, of course, things Gladio wouldn't think about until later and piecing things together through memory, like Ignis was a puzzle he could solve with enough contextual clues. That the apartment smelled more like cleaning supplies than like a placed lived in, no clutter, or that there weren't any personal touches that he could see- no pictures on the walls, no potted plants, no furniture that wasn't strictly utilitarian. No colors that weren't a shade away from neutral. Even Ignis himself, smelling like laundry and soap. _Practical_. Never cologne, even when he was 16 and all the other boys around them were dousing themselves with the stuff. If it didn't serve a pragmatic function it was a waste of his time).

He took off Ignis's glasses. That alone was enough to make him look naked, eyes wide and barely blinking. Gloves next. And Gladio took his hands in each of his own, paused to place a kiss on the back, then the palm, first the right then the left, as if this was the most intimate part of the body. When it came to Ignis it almost felt like it, what with him always keeping covered. Ignis would not let him indulge in romance for long, and those bare hands dragged lines down Gladio's stomach, muscle tensing, as Ignis reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, hardly pausing before he pushed those down too, just down to Gladio's mid thigh. Just enough to free his cock, already erect like they'd been doing more than just kissing. A bare hand started stroking him, getting him fully hard and Gladio groaned, pulled Ignis forward by the waist again to press his face into the junction of Ignis's neck (and smelling soap). 

He was pushed back on the bed before long, Ignis taking the opportunity to pull his pants the rest of the way down now that he was off his feet. He could have made some quip about how Ignis was wearing too much, or maybe take himself in his hand and ask if Ignis liked what he saw, all the playful things that normally came so easy to him in these situations, but his throat was too tight, heart pounding with anticipation as he watched bare hands, slow and methodical, undo the buttons down the front of his shirt, then down to the closure of his pants. He was wearing plain black briefs (of course he would wear briefs), but those came off quick enough. At least with Ignis naked there was obvious evidence of his arousal, not something he could hid behind the mask of his face, and Gladio, popped up on his elbows, beckoned Ignis forward, pulled him in for another kiss.

On his back, with Ignis over him it was easy to imagine how this would go. He knew enough about his own anatomy to know what people usually wanted or expected of him. That was fine, really, always a people pleaser in this arena, and not so much hung up on the particulars if it would get them both off. Ignis would reach behind himself to prepare, Ignis would line himself up over Gladio's hips, and then Ignis would ride him. 

But then Ignis, whose hand had been back on Gladio's cock again, stopped stroking to trail lower, tease his balls before dipping down to his ass and rub the furrowed skin there.  

Of course Ignis would know. If there was anything he had ever been good at, it was knowing far too much about everyone around him. 

He paused for a moment, reaching over Gladio to fish the lube and condoms from his bedside table, slicking up his fingers and moving his attention back to Gladio's ass. He was not so much gentle as practiced, and as Ignis pushed a finger in Gladio tensed, letting out a moan before he forced himself to relax, to high strung with want and anticipation. He spread his legs wider, bending at the knee to give Ignis unimpeded access, and he was rewarded with the finger going deeper. 

Ignis made quick work of him, like he knew Gladio's body better than he knew it himself. Gladio stared at his cock while he worked, nice and long and as pretty as the rest of him. He wanted to suck Ignis off. He wanted to feel Ignis inside him more.

"I'm ready, if you wanna fuck me," he said, straining to keep his voice level, and he watch as Ignis nodded and grabbed a condom, slipped it on, slicked himself up with more lube (methodical, practiced). 

Ignis was a tease. He stroked the tip of his cock against Gladio's hole, pushed in slightly just to pull back out again. 

"Ignis you're killing me," he said, no hiding the quiver in his voice now. He thought that might get a laugh out of him, a smile, _something_ , but he wouldn't complain when the only reaction Ignis gave was to grip tight to Gladio's hips and thrust himself in fully. 

The noise that left Gladio was more of a whimper than anything else, embarrassingly high pitch. As Ignis started moving inside of him, fluid movement with each push and pull, the drag of his cock, Gladio already knew he wasn't going to last nearly as long as he wanted to.

If Ignis could tell then he clearly didn't care, not from the way he wouldn't let Gladio catch his breath or stop pushing him towards the edge. He had to have known what he was doing.

When Gladio came it was with a choked moan and closed eyes, muscles clenching when he felt his own come spray onto his stomach, gasping breaths as Ignis slowed but didn't stop, not until the last of his release dripped from the tip of his cock. He felt Ignis start to pull out then, and he quickly wrapped his legs around Ignis's waist to prevent him, not yet wanting it to be over. "Don't stop," he said, pulling Ignis closer until he could put his arms around his neck, "don't stop until you come." 

It didn't take much convincing, Ignis picking up his pace again, fucking him faster, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of Gladio's head. Everything he'd been wanting but hadn't ever asked for. 

When Ignis came he was quiet, not a moan and hardly a gasp, but Gladio felt him tense, felt the way his hips stuttered and his cock pulsed. It seemed that he didn't want to collapse on Gladio, even as his arms gave out, and Gladio didn't give him much of a choice, refusing to let go. He pulled Ignis to his chest, the mess of his orgasm smeared on both of them, both covered in sweat and overheating, both of their hearts beating too fast. He didn't care. He held Ignis close to him and he didn't care. 

The rocking boat he seemed to be floating on calmed, he felt Ignis shift his hips, cock growing soft now and still inside of him, but Gladio tightened his legs again and wouldn't let him pull out; not yet, not just yet. But a few moments later, Ignis tried again, and when Gladio started to protest he said, "I have to take the condom off." 

Practical. 

He brought Gladio tissues when he got up, letting him clean off before Ignis took care of himself. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, and Gladio looked around the room (bare walls, no clutter), then looked to his side. The box of condoms had tipped over on the night stand, left open and Gladio stared at the empty insides. Two left, spilled out.

Ignis got into bed behind him.

"You're almost out of condoms," he said. He got little more than a grunt in reply, and he turned his head to see Ignis already half asleep, not bothered that Gladio was still in his bed. Not making any effort to lay close to him either. 

 

 

He woke to the pale and thin light of the sun just starting to rise, and to Ignis, gone.

No- not gone. Quiet sounds coming from outside the bedroom door caught him before he had a chance to let disappointment set in. Short lived. 

Ignis came back into the bedroom to grab his jacked, hanging from the back of the door, otherwise already fully dressed and ready. He glanced at the bed and did the slightest double take when he saw Gladio watching him.

"Oh, you're awake," he said, looking at Gladio like he did every other day; detached. No feeling behind his eyes, nothing caring, nothing tender, like they hadn't just fucked the night before, like Gladio wasn't still naked in his bed, like they were comparing schedules and talking about Noctis, all business once again. Something in Gladio's stomach curdled, like spoiling milk, a growing sense of something sick. "You can sleep later if you'd like, but I've got to go."

"Ignis..." Gladio said, catching him as he turned to leave, and Ignis looked at him, flat. Raised an eyebrow has he waited for Gladio to finish his thought, a barely audible sigh when he didn't.

"Please be discreet when you leave," he said instead, and then left Gladio alone.

This wasn't what he had wanted.

This wasn't what he had wanted at all. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

There were memories there, to be excavated and relived on days when Gladio was feeling particularly masochistic. They were raised together. Or raised in proximity, at least.

Ignis always there in the background, always there but not substantial, some window dressing around whatever else Gladio had been focused on. A shadow. And yet something Gladio had always taken for granted. They weren't friends. They hadn't ever been friends.

Making friends was not a talent Ignis possessed.  

The Royalty and Nobles of the Citadel made their best efforts at instilling some sense of camaraderie amongst the children that would one day rise in the ranks to serve the King and help lead the people. Their birth was a life sentence, and passed from generations. And through so many events and meetings, they were cordoned off together. _Run along and play in the gardens while the adults talk_.

Gladiolus and Ignis had always been different. They were set to serve the Prince directly, a distinction that put them apart even in the social circles of children at such a young age. It was in Gladio's blood, to become the King's Shield like his father before him. If there was jealousy then it was outweighed by respect, or if nothing else, fear that acting out in that jealousy would lead to more of a punishment than it was worth.

But Ignis was different still. He was chosen, not led to his position by birth.

Gladio thought it made him lucky, that he was special because of it. He didn't ever stop to think that if something was given by choice, that meant it could always be taken away. 

It meant he didn't have the protection of blood.  

" _I_ should be a Lucian General. _My_ father fought against Niflheim, he killed more MTs than anyone else ever has."

Years ago, the boys were playing Kings and Emperors in the Citadel garden and arguing over who was going to be on what side, some pretty spring day while all the adults were busy discussing serious concerns. Gladio didn't care very much about the game, and didn't really care which side he was on, or how many MTs Edmund Arilus's dad killed in the war. He was starting to feel too old for this kind of thing, especially when he'd taken to eavesdropping at his own father's door at night, a slow an dawning realization about the weighty concerns of the _real_ war. Edmund could play whoever he wanted, as far as he was concerned. It didn't mean anything anyway.

"Your father didn't fight in the war." 

Ignis stood just outside their group, with them, but separate, always. He'd already begun wearing glasses, even so young, making him seem older just like the way he talked always made him seem older. The other boys didn't like that much, not when he was actually the youngest out of all of them. 

"How would _you_ know, he's not your dad," Edmund said, sneering at him and probably too defensive.

"They keep public records of who served in the war in the Citadel library," Ignis said as if memorizing military records were a normal thing for a child to do, either unconcerned or oblivious to the fact that Edmund was getting angrier the more he spoke. "Your father's never been in the military."

"Shut _up_ , you're wrong."

"He's not even a Nobel. He married into the position."

" _Shut up!_ "

Edmund charged at Ignis, pushed him backwards with all of his strength and Ignis hit the ground hard, legs flying up and glasses slipping down his face, looking stupid enough to make some of the other boys laugh. There was little they found endearing about him, and no one willing to come to his defense. 

"Lets go," Edmund said, red in the face and storming off.

(Thoughts most likely on his father, spending his days drinking and gambling away his wife's inherited fortune. Things that Ignis, no doubt, had been aware of). 

The rest of the boys followed, and Gladio took a step before pausing to look back at Ignis.

He was blinking down at his hands, scraped and bleeding from trying to break his fall on the ground, pants now covered in dirt. He didn't run off to one of the adults, to snitch or even to get himself cleaned up. He didn't cry. Ignis didn't ever cry.

"Gladio, come _on!_ "

Gladio hesitated, took one final look at Ignis before leaving him behind, following the other boys.

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> straight up: i have literally no idea where this is going.  
> I've had Some Thoughts about how, given his upbringing it's kind of a miracle Ignis is as well adjusted as he is, with none of the awkwardness of noctis, but none of the family life like gladio had to balance his duties (at least not that we see). so this is kind of an exploration of how things could have been.  
> but plots up in the air meaning this may take me some time between chapters, you have been warned
> 
> (you can find me on tumblr @ [notthelasttime](https://notthelasttime.tumblr.com/))


	2. Chapter 2

It started with Cor Leonis.

Or so Gladio decided, because saying it started from birth and circumstance, that he was bound to play out this sequence of events since infancy sounded too melodramatic. Besides, it all came back to Ignis, and Ignis wasn't bound by blood. Ignis had an existence outside the chains of fate. So it was Gladio doomed by blood and Royalty and Ignis running free with his free will. Even if that free will was only an illusion. It was easy for Gladio to ignore the cages that weren't his.

So it started with Cor Leonis. 

His intentions were clear from the start, Cor waiting in his office, despite the fact that he usually acted like sitting behind a desk for any extended period of time gave him hives. He was always better suited for the field, or baring that, the training rooms, watching over recruits with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. The frown was still in place, even now outside the training rooms, and he sat like he stood, all straight back and hands folded. "Gladiolus," he said, and gestured at the chair in front of him, "sit down."

 _Gladiolus_. Full names then, and in case it hadn't immediately been clear, this was not a meeting between Gladio and Cor. It was a meeting between the Prince's Shield and the Marshal.

So Gladio kept his mouth shut and sat, and waited for Cor to begin.

"How are things progressing with Noctis?"

"It's uh, they're uh, f-fine," Gladio knew hoping Cor hadn't heard the crack in his voice even if he knew hoping was futile. He was nervous and acting like a damn 15 year old kid, but the Marshal always had that affect on him. That and the fact that if anyone besides him knew how things were with Noctis, it was Cor Leonis. So why the bullshit. 

"We're focusing on his strength and endurance," he pushed on, because he didn't want to look like a meathead with nothing intelligent to say, and if Cor Leonis asked you a question, you answered it. "His technique is good, but he can't last in long fights. Magic, especially takes it out of him. It's where he's got the most power, but it won't be an advantage if he's too sapped to fight."

Cor nodded along, looking serious and pretending this wasn't all information he already knew. 

"And your own training?"

Gladio cleared his throat, mind racing and wondering why these all felt like trick questions. "It's coming along..." he said with caution, right before throwing that caution to the wind and digging in his feet. "I'm one of the best." He wasn't going to stand on false modesty when he knew what he was capable of and he didn't know what Cor was playing at. "I _will_ be the best. I'm twice as strong as anyone my age and I put twice as much time in training as any of the Crownsguard. It's my duty. And I do it well."

"But...?" Cor prompted him, and Gladio licked his lips before responding, sitting rigid in his chair.

"But... I don't have the experience. I'll get there," he said, determination thrumming through his veins and in his voice. "It's my obligation to Noctis and to the Crown. I'll be strong enough to protect him."

Cor eyed him, eyes filled with some kind of spark and a long moment stretched out between them before he leaned back in his chair and said, "Good." Then, "Gladio, I have a request." 

If this had all been a test, Gladio still didn't know if he had passed or failed. Amused as Cor seemed to be, it could mean anything. And Cor didn't mind making him wait, letting another pause spread through the conversation. 

"I've mentioned to Ignis that it might be in his best interest to train with you, on occasion."

"Ignis."

There were a hundred reasons and excuses why Gladio felt himself frown, same as the reasons for that sudden clench in his stomach. 

"It'll be in your best interest as well," Cor continued on, pointedly oblivious to whatever Gladio might be feeling. "He's progressed fast, and had to rely on talents other than brute strength. You'll be able to learn from each other, if you take this as an opportunity. 

Out of all the people Gladio could have been paired with, all the soldiers and Generals, and high ranking Crownsguard, he doubted Ignis had the most to offer him in terms of fighting or technique. Cor waited for him to protest, as he so very obviously wanted to, but when Gladio didn't, he continued on.

"But I have another request for you."

Somehow it wasn't a surprised. He must have been doing a worse job than he thought of hiding his displeasure because before Cor continued on, Gladio heard him sigh. 

"Your duties overlap more than you care to acknowledge. There are times when you won't be the only one acting as a shield to Noctis, like there are times when Ignis won't be the only one acting as advisor. All I ask is that you make an effort with him, to engage him in more than just physical training."

"Why put this on me," Gladio asked, "why not tell this to Ignis."

"Because Ignis will execute any suggestion given to him from a superior with single-minded determination as if it were an official order. I don't want that. I'm not giving an order, simply asking that the two of you familiarize yourselves with each other and your respective responsibilities so that you might help each other better in the future. So that you can have a working relationship. Perhaps you can share the burden of some of his duties as well."

"I really don't think Noct needs another nanny." Gladio nearly cringed as soon as the words left his mouth, only just containing himself knowing if anything could make the situation worse, it would be showing uncertainty in front of Cor. It'd just give him something to grip on to while he made Gladio squirm, and there was already enough embarrassment ready to flood him, the shameful way all that locker room talk about Ignis was so easy to fall out of his own mouth. He didn't miss the way Cor's jaw clenched. 

"You and I both know Ignis's duties are comprised of more than _nannying_." Cor spat the word back at him, and that time Gladio couldn't contain a wince. He opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, say some excuse, but Cor cut him off.

"Listen to me Gladiolus, I am only going to explain this to you once. The Prince will only be as good as the people around him. You will protect him, you will help him, and you will guide him. There are times when he will ask for your council and when you advise him to make a decision it may result in blood on your hands as much as his. And Ignis is going to be there by your side, behind your King, and you'll be damning yourself if you don't learn to work with him.

I'm not asking you to agree with him. I'm not asking you to be friends with him, I'm not even asking you to like him. I am asking that you do what's best for your future King and for your Country by understanding what goes on behind the life of the Prince and learning to do more than swing a sword. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Sir."

"Dismissed."

Pride thoroughly bruised and full of irrational anger, Gladio stood and made for the office door.

"Gladiolus."

He stopped, clutched the handle and looked back over his shoulder.

"Do not make me make this an order."

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

It didn't start with Cor Leonis.

This fascination that Gladio denied was ever there, so close to bordering on obsession. Ignis had long taken up space in the back of his mind, a hidden secret. If only he chose to acknowledge it.

The _thump_ of Noct hitting the training mat nearly echoed throughout the room and Gladio sighed, planting his wooden greatsword on the ground and resting his forearms on the pommel.

“Get up.”

Noctis groaned and flopped all the way back on the ground, arms spread wide, “No way. Time out, I’m beat.”

“There aren’t any time outs in the middle of battle, Princess,” Gladio said, annoyed but he didn’t press the issue when Noctis didn’t move, half-surprised when he wasn't met with a snarky comment, shooting something back like _how the hell would you know_. The kid was 14 and still a proper brat when he wanted to be, but things were better. Better meaning Gladio only wanted to strangle him half the time.

"Fine," Gladio said, sighing again when it was clear Noctis wouldn't be getting up of his own volition any time soon. So he grabbed a water bottle and chucked it at Noct's head. "If you're not gonna work, at least rehydrate while you're moping."

 _I'm not moping_ , he heard Noct grumble under his breath, just quiet enough that if Gladio tried to call him out, he'd deny having said anything at all. Probably because he knew the comment was an open invitation for Gladio to tell him he was only salty for getting his ass kicked. Which was _true_ , but even if it wasn't, what was the point of beefing up if Gladio couldn't at least brag about it sometimes.

He let Noctis catch his breath and drink his water, but just as Gladio was about to yell at him to get on his feet again, Noct beat him with a question.

"So are you going to start training Iggy now too?"

It caught him off guard, the same way that Noct's casualness in asking caught him off guard. Like it wasn't something odd, something unexpected. It didn't carry a hint of teasing.

"Why would I be training Ignis?" He asked, while ignoring that dangerous pull, low and deep in his gut at the sound of Ignis's name.

Noct didn't notice, just shrugged and said, "Oh, I just thought they might ask you to. Since you're training me and all. Iggy said they told him to start combat training."

"You were just hoping he'd sit in on your lessons and take the pressure off of you," Gladio said, making a face in mocking, but his heart wasn't in it. Ignis- bookish, proper, Ignis, hiding behind his glasses, clutching files to his chest with skinny arms. What'd he need combat training for? Gladio wanted to laugh at the thought of it, but that was just a distraction from the thoughts running deeper.

 _Why not? Why not me? Why didn't they ask me to train him? Why not? Why not me?_  

"What do-"

Noctis cut himself off, head tilting down in a sudden self conscious gesture. Gladio's attention snapped back to him, waiting, even with curiosity prickling at him, knowing knowing that if it was something Noct really wanted to bring up, he'd do it on his own time. Forcing things with him always caused Noct to double down in defense. 

He raised his gaze, meeting Gladio's eyes and looking almost defiant when he asked, "What do they say about him?"

Gladio shifted his feet, met with the uncomfortable prospect of having to tell his Prince the truth. He shouldn't lie. He _couldn't_ lie, not when addressed with a direct question from the man he was meant to serve, but detailing the things he knew about Ignis made unbidden discomfort rise to the surface and he couldn't place why. It wasn't him. It wasn't his fault, what other people said.

"I know, I know people talk about him," Noctis rushed ahead when he saw Gladio's hesitation, "they're not stupid enough to do it in front of me, but they're not smart enough to keep me from knowing about it either."

Gladio stayed silent still, grasping at what he could possibly say, the things that had been spread around about Ignis over the years, the way people spoke about him, how to sum it up in a way without being dishonest and without hurting feelings. How to explain it to someone from the outside, _that's just how things are_. Excuses; Ignis never made it easy on himself. He never tried. He didn't care.

"That bad?" Noctis said when he gave no response. And then Gladio saw the change, the fire in his eyes, the stubborn set of his mouth and brow as he said, "He's _my_ Chamberlain. They can say whatever they want. He's not going anywhere and it's not any of their business."

And _there_ , Gladio thought, _there he is_. A glimpse of a man that Gladio could fight for, could lay down his life for. Someone loyal and willing to fight for those he cared about, and if Noctis could bring that same fight to protecting his people, he would be a King the likes of which would rival any Lucis had ever seen. Except that all this sudden fire and fight... it was brought on by him defending Ignis.

 _Ignis_.

What kind of cold and restrained person could bring about that kind of loyalty. 

What were all the facets of Ignis that Noctis knew and Gladio had never seen. Had never even come close to seeing...

He got Noctis up on his feet again and they went through the motions of training, Gladio's heart not in it and half distracted all the while. He let Noct run off to the locker room a couple minutes early, hoping to get his thoughts in order before, punctual as always, at exactly five o'clock on the hour, Ignis opened the door to the training room just as Noctis was grabbing the last of his things. 

Gladio couldn't help but watch him.

The acne , a furious red covering his cheeks. The guys had been relentless about it, but they'd long learned not to be so direct, not to pick a fight face to face. They were smarter now, after learning that Ignis gave them blank looks and the words he responded with were all knives. So it was passive aggression then, and mocking rumors and laughing behind his back, nothing so tangible that he could respond to, except that Ignis didn't seem to want to. He didn't even act like he noticed. Gladio tried again to picture it, a sword in his hand, teeth bared in the middle of a fight, but the image wouldn't stick, too at-odds with what was standing in front of him.

He gave a nod in Gladio's direction, as he always did, the barest acknowledgement, fleeting eye contact when he deigned to make it.

If he didn't know Ignis better he'd think it was shyness. 

Just a nod. As Noctis ran up to him, glad to be free of Gladio's torture, and he stared.

It was indifference.

He could break it apart every which way, every gesture, every look or lack thereof, it didn't mean anything. It meant everything. 

Because it could mean Gladio wasn't interesting enough, wasn't worthy enough of time or effort. It wasn't a greeting, it wasn't a gesture of familiarity. It was dismissal. And Gladio said to himself that it only bothered him because he was used to being liked without trying all too much, that he always thought with a little time and a little effort he could get anyone to warm up to him. That it ruffled his feathers just a little to find someone that couldn't be charmed, baffled by the fact that someone didn't like him, even if he didn't like them back.

So when seeing Ignis and his flippant gestures bothered him, it wasn't because Gladio wanted Ignis to think that he was worth talking to. It wasn't because he wanted Ignis to think he was good enough. It wasn't anything personal.

(Not that)

(Anything but that)

 


End file.
